


Easy Silence

by a24harris



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 12:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12298863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a24harris/pseuds/a24harris
Summary: "Sure, the loss today stings, but with Ashlyn pressed against her, surrounded by cool water just outside of the home they share, Ali knows that in the grand scheme of things, she’s won big time." The aftermath of the semi-final loss to Portland.





	Easy Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. So I've been dying to start writing these two for a while now, and after today's game, I couldn't get this out of my head. Just a quick little blurb of what ~could~ have happened after the Portland game. 
> 
> Song is "Easy Silence" by The Dixie Chicks

October 7, 2017

 

They don't really say much. 

 

Ali's not an idiot. She can tell Ashlyn's upset. They all are. The loss had been devastating, the reality that their season was over when they’d been so close to a championship hitting the entire team in one fell swoop as the final whistle blew. It was dream crushing, the end of a season that had seemed so promising, a season that had started so frail and shaky but had only grown stronger. Ali had really believed they'd had a chance to take it all the way. And really, in a purely objective point of view, they very well could have. They'd had their slip ups, but the team had come together, really gelling as a unit and learning how to dominate on the field. 

 

It just didn't happen today. 

 

The post game greeting and high fives goes faster that normal. Usually, win or loss, Ashlyn stays on the field for as long as possible, her enthusiasm and energy rarely dampened by a loss. She’ll kick a ball around, joke with coaches and her national teammates, and sign autographs until her hand aches or a trainer is dragging her from the field. It’s the part of the game she’s always told Ali she loves the most. The camaraderie and family that extends far beyond what jersey you’re wearing. She’s a fierce competitor, and she hates to lose, but she loves the game and the family that she’s found in it more than anything. 

 

This time, though, she tucks her head, no enthusiasm in her movements as she goes through the motions of congratulating the Thorns. Not even Long or Heath can drag a smile out of her as she gives them a weak high five and a hug, her eyes already aimed towards the tunnel that will take her away from the field and the chants of the Portland fans that are surrounding her. Ali keeps a smile plastered on her face, nodding and smiling as she moves through the crowd, but her eyes are constantly straying to the fluorescent yellow of Ashlyn’s uniform. 

 

Ashlyn makes her exit as soon as possible, head hung low as she walks across the field into the tunnel that will take her back to the visitor’s locker room. Ali wants to follow her, but she knows Ashlyn needs time. Instead, she wanders to the stands, finding her mother almost instantly. She holds it together until she reaches her, the familiar arms that wrap around her breaking the last bit of control she had on her heart break. 

 

Her mom coos in her ear, leading her away from the crowd and prying eyes. Ali’s eternally grateful, Deb knowing that the last thing she’d want is for pictures of her crying to be plastered across social media. They make their way towards the locker room, Deb’s arm around her and her thumb rubbing back and forth against Ali’s shoulder. It’s a quiet sign of comfort, and it helps, the tears dry by the time they make it to the locker room. 

 

“I’ll see you when you get home, okay?” Deb says quietly, and Ali knows that her mom knows who is waiting on the other side of the locker room door. She’s always been so perceptive, and Ali can see that way her motherly instinct to comfort Ashlyn is pushed aside in favor of letting her daughter step in and care for her in a way the other girl will need in that moment. “We’ll do dinner at some point before I head home. Whenever you two are ready.”

 

“Of course, mom,” Ali says, pulling her in for another hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her mother’s been amazing, and Ali doesn’t know how to thank her, so instead she just hugs her harder before stepping back and turning to enter the locker room.

 

Her heart breaks the second she steps inside. 

 

Ashlyn’s sitting in front of the locker, jersey and gloves on the floor and head in her hands. Her captain armband lies discarded on top of the pile, dark colors standing out like a beacon against the brightness of her uniform. Her shoulders are shaking, but there’s no sound, and Ali knows she’s fighting her hardest to keep herself in check. 

 

“Ash…” she sighs under her breath, crossing the space in record time and dropping to her knees in front of her, hands coming up to circle around her wrists, “Ash, baby, look at me.”

 

There’s no response, but Ali can feel the way the keeper’s body tenses under her touch. It doesn’t hurt, though. She knows it’s not about her, it’s about Ash and the way she shoulders everything, the way she’s always held herself to a higher standard and can’t ever be seen as weak. Ali’s had the rare privilege of getting to see her more vulnerable side, but the loss is still too raw for Ashlyn to let her guard down, even with the woman she’s loved for years. 

 

Ali’s grip on her wrists only tightens, the rough texture of the tape a sharp contrast to the smooth skin of a wrist that shakes slightly under Ali’s palm. “Ashlyn. Look at me.” She’s firm, but kind. She knows just how to push her, how to break down that wall Ashlyn is so good at building without pushing too hard and causing her to close up. 

 

It takes a moment, but Ashlyn’s hands finally lower, though her gaze stays locked on the floor space between them. One hand leaves Ashlyn’s wrist to tilt her chin upwards, the crack in Ali’s heart breaking wide open at the look of utter devastation on Ashlyn’s face. 

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighs, that same hand sliding up to cup her cheek, thumb stroking rhythmically beneath an eye that she can see is holding back tears. The loss is going to sting for all of them, but for the captain who poured her heart and soul into every game, Ali knows it’s going to be the toughest pill to swallow. 

 

She wants to console her, wants to remind her that losses happen, and that whether she let in four goals or forty, the team will love her still the same.  _ She _ will love her still the same. But she knows the words will fall on deaf ears. It’s not the time for words. Instead, she pushes up from her position on the floor, her left hand tangling with Ashlyn’s right as she settles on the seat next to her. 

 

“I love you,” she says softly, leaning towards her shoulder and pressing a kiss to it before leaning her own head there. Her eyes fall shut as she does her best to send Ashlyn every positive feeling she can muster, squeezing her hand tight in her own when she hears the rest of the team coming down the hallway. 

 

Ashlyn pulls away then, but Ali can feel the way she squeezes back gently, head nodding in a silent thank you. It’s all she can give for now, and Ali’s okay with that. They both stand, Ali moving over to her locker space as they begin the methodical work of changing and packing up their gear for the long trip home to Orlando. 

 

Alex is the first to enter, the frustration and disappointment radiating from her as she moves to her locker just two down from Ali’s. They lock eyes, and Alex shrugs before turning to take in the sight of Ashlyn’s hunched back. She turns back to Ali with a knowing expression on her lips, giving her a half smile but not saying anything. It’s a sign of how well they know each other, Alex choosing instead to reach out and pull Ali into a hug, patting her gently on the back before pulling away. 

 

The rest of the team funnels in much in the same way, the occasional conversation and muttered “good game” doing little to break the tension that hangs over them all. When Tom comes in, launching into a speech about how proud he is that they played their hearts out and that they’ll come back stronger the next season, Ali’s heart fills and aches in her chest. She loves her team so damn much, and she knows this will only fuel them come 2018. He’s a man of little words, though, and before long he’s slipping away. When he leaves, the conversation picks up, the moods around the room slowly increasing as they struggle through the loss and do their best to remember there’s always next year. 

 

Ashlyn is the first to disappear to the showers, and Ali takes the time to pull her phone out, firing off a quick tweet and replying to the several encouraging texts from her brother. She looks through her mentions, ignoring the critics and instead focusing on the outpouring of love from her fans. She’s no stranger to loss, but it always helps to have the support of so many. 

 

“How’s she doing?” Alex asks, leaning towards Ali with her arms over her chest. She doesn’t say who, but they both know exactly who Alex is referring to with her question.

 

“Not great,” Ali says with a quick glance over her shoulder towards the showers, worry showing in the lines that mar her forehead. “We both know she wasn’t on her peak out there, so it’s gonna be worse than normal, but she’ll be okay. She always is.”

 

Neither of them question whether the words were more for Ashlyn’s benefit or her own. 

 

The next hour passes in a blur of showering and packing, before they’re shouldering their bags and heading out to the bus that will take them to the airport. Ashlyn takes some of Ali’s bags without a word, loading them up alongside her own in a way that makes Ali’s heart tumble in her chest. It’s so characteristic for her, and Ali feels herself fall just a little bit more in love with the girl as they walk out of the locker room. They’re back to Orlando right away, Tom having planned on getting in every bit of practice they could before the championship next week. They’ll still be going, but this time as spectators in the stands, wounded but ready to cheer on their friends. 

 

Ashlyn walks on her own, her face barely masking the annoyance Ali knows she feels at the crowds that have surrounded their bus. Ashlyn loves her fans, but they can be a bit much at times, and she’s serious about her need for privacy. Ali’s walking beside Alex as she watches Ashlyn load her suitcase onto the bus, grip on the strap of her backpack tightening as camera’s snap around them. She throws up a quick peace sign in response to the chorus of her name from behind her, keeping her gaze locked forward. 

 

“Go on,” Alex says, reaching and taking her bag from her where they were waiting to load their suitcases, “I got this.” 

 

It takes Ali a second to realize what she’s saying, a grateful sigh falling from her lips as she nods, before pushing through the crowd of people that are moving towards the bus so she’s right behind Ashlyn. She waits until Ashlyn’s already climbed on and picked a seat before making her presence known, sliding right in beside her before Ashlyn has a chance to protest. 

 

“Al-” Ashlyn starts, but Ali cuts her off by taking her hand, dragging it to her lips for a kiss before dropping them to rest in her own lap, leaning her head against Ashlyn’s shoulder the way she’d done just an hour before. 

 

“Nope,” she says with a note of finality, cutting Ashlyn’s protest off before she can really form it. “Let me be here for you.” The please is implied, but Ali knows Ashlyn won’t fight her. As much as she wants to be alone, she knows herself and she’s learned over the years to rely on others and their help when they offer it. 

 

Ashlyn relents with an almost nonexistent nod of her head, a soft sigh falling from her lips before she turns to stare out the window. Ali breathes a sigh of relief then, using her free hand to pull out her iPod and find a playlist for the ride. It’s not an easy feat with one hand, but she doesn’t want to let go of Ashlyn’s grip. She manages it, thankful she had her backup set of headphones as she reaches to slip one earbud into Ashlyn’s ear before the other is pushed into her own. 

 

It’s not until they’re pulling away and settling back for the ride to the airport that Ali realizes Ashlyn’s thumb is stroking back and forth against the back of her hand.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The journey home passes by in a blur, Ali sticking as close to Ashlyn’s side as possible through planes and layovers and bus rides. Ashlyn’s softened up quite a bit in the hours since they left Portland, smiling for a picture Ali snaps on the plane and joking with her teammates as the rest of the passengers look on in confusion. The best part, in Ali’s opinion, is the way she has her arm wrapped tight around Ali’s shoulder when they finally pull into Orlando City Stadium late that night. They unload quietly, Ashlyn waiting until everyone is off the bus before she follows the group out. 

 

The fans that line the sidewalk outside the complex take Ali by surprise, that same soaring feeling in her heart returning full force at the support this city is showing them. She breaks out into a grin as she walks over to the gate with a few of the other players, smiling and shaking hands through the bars, even signing a few autographs. She’s surprised when Ashlyn slides up next to her, a smile on her lips that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Still, she’s there, and Ali knows that’s something to be thankful for. 

 

They’re dragged away soon after, the night already long and everyone ready to go home. Ali unloads her things quickly, separating what she’ll take home and what she’ll leave here. It’s officially off season now, and she has no need to take her kits home. Her bag is considerably lighter when she’s done, and somehow she feels her emotions are as well. It’s like she’s unloaded it all, leaving the disappointment behind as she crosses to Ashlyn. There’s always next year, and Ali’s damn sure determined to bring that trophy home. 

 

“I love you,” she says quietly so no one else can hear, loving the way a genuine smile breaks out across Ashlyn’s face, that dimple popping in her cheek. 

 

“I love you too,” Ashlyn responds, holding out her hand for Ali to take as she shoulders her backpack. Ali waves goodbye with her free hand as they move towards the door, Ashlyn nodding to the few players that are still left as they walk towards the parking lot. Their hands part just before they exit the door, knowing there’s still a crowd waiting for them on the other side. The looming black Jeep is waiting for them, Ali waving cheerfully to the fans that are still lining the gate before they climb in and start the drive home. 

 

It’s quiet until they get to the house, the exhaustion from the day setting in as Ashlyn unlocks the door and leads them inside. She tosses her keys on the table in the entry way without looking, kicking her shoes off and dropping the bags as she moves further into the house. Ali follows quietly, watching the way Ashlyn unloads both literally and figuratively, her plaid jacket thrown over the chair in the living room before she finally slows to a stop. Her hands rest on her hips as she stands silently before Ali is sidling up behind her and wrapping her arms around her middle. 

 

“C’mon,” she whispers quietly, pressing a kiss between Ashlyn’s shoulder blades before grabbing her hand and tugging her closer. She doesn’t want to give Ashlyn a chance to wallow or start analyzing every move and decision she made, grinning as she walks backwards through their house, sliding open the door to the backyard. Finally dropping Ashlyn’s hand, she reaches for the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head and grinning with an arch of her eyebrow. She’s relieved to see Ashlyn smile, shaking her head slightly before mirroring her movements. 

 

They strip in relative silence, Ali waiting patiently until Ashlyn finishes before taking her hand again and leading her into the pool. It had become a tradition of theirs years back. Every game they lost, they’d go swimming after, whether they were home or at a hotel. It didn’t matter if they had five hours or five minutes, they’d jump in the water together and wash away the loss before pushing on to the next game. There was something about floating mindlessly in the water that made everything disappear but the two of them. Ashlyn closes the distance first, strong arms wrapping around Ali as she pulls her into her own body. “Thank you,” she says quietly, and Ali can feel everything that’s implied in her statement. 

 

She leans in for a kiss instead of responding with words, hands sliding to grip at the back of Ashlyn’s neck as the kiss deepens. Ashlyn pours everything into it, her grip sliding down to Ali’s thighs to lift her slightly so her legs wrap around Ashlyn’s waist. The sadness is gone now, replaced with a comfort that Ali knows they can only find in each other. “I love you so much,” she says, leaning her head against Ashlyn’s. 

 

Sure, the loss today stings, but with Ashlyn pressed against her, surrounded by cool water in the home they’ve built together, Ali knows that in the grand scheme of things, she’s won big time. 


End file.
